Mommy Rules

I'm kind of stuck on my computer moving a mountain of pictures and videos of adorable children and the curiosities of everyday life from my iPhone onto a storage device so I can take yet more pictures of the cute, the mundane, and the I-don't-have-time-to-run-for-the-real-camera stuff. What that means for you is two posts in one night. That's right, tonight you reap the rewards of my inability to effectively use technology!

Unfortunately, this isn't real deep-thinking, soul-searching, truly touching blog post material. I'm just posting something I have on my bedroom wall. I wrote it when I was going through a period of more ungraceful mothering and subsequent nightly guilt, which happens approximately once a month for me (ahem). These are my mommy rules. Seeing it on my wall helps keep these foremost in my mind every day as I go to interact with my kids. Do any of you moms have other "rules" or guidelines for yourself?

Mommy Rules

1. Just say "yes" sometimes- I don't know if it's because I'm a firstborn or if I'm actually just controlling, but I find myself saying "no" to my kids a LOT because I don't want to be bothered with the hassle or mess of whatever they're requesting. If it's not going to result in serious injury, damage to property, and isn't against our established rules, I have to remember for all our sakes just to say "yes" when they ask if they can wash toy cars in the sink, play with the Tupperware, run around barefoot in the back yard, etc.
2. Every day, give each one a hug and a kiss for no reason at all- Occasionally I find myself so busy that I realize I haven't given them hugs or kisses, and it's amazing how much they light up when I remember. (And the reciprocal affection is pretty sweet too!)
3. Spend 5-10 minutes of one-on-one time with each child- This became harder once there were three children in the mix, but all of us seem to do better when I can connect with each child for at least a little while and get to know what's going on with them.
4. If you hear yourself YELLING or you are growling, constantly frustrated, or ready to pull your hair out, GO TO YOUR ROOM FOR MOMMY TIME OUT- It turns out the stresses of parenting bring out the very loud and yell-y side of my family. Simmering anger, a volcanic temper, and using a loud, angry voice are all some of my very prominent personal struggles that I have to fight (and often fail to control) multiple times a day. One way of coping with my temper when I'm feeling snappish is to just separate myself and the kids. When I feel angry, overwhelmed, and appalled by everything, I either send them to their room (or outside) to play or put something on for them to watch while I cool down in my room. Sometimes we just need a little time apart for mommy to calm down.
5. MODEL a cheerful heart and a good attitude- you are the person they're around most every day- a humbling, slightly terrifying truth. I can preach patience, kindness, forgiveness, and other virtues to my kids, but if I can't model them myself, my words don't mean anything.
6. Dance, sing, wrestle, or play with them- Because we all appreciate it when I take time to have fun with kids once in a while. 
7. Read the Bible every day- For keeping me grounded and for reminders of God's patience, strength, love, and expectations. Plus my oldest has a lot of questions these days about God and Jesus and I want to be able to answer them, and it's just good for the soul to be refreshed and challenged by God's words. 
8. Pray. A lot.- Because if these kids are going to grow up to be good, well-adjusted, contributing members of society, it is going to be because the God who made each member of our family moves in our lives in real and meaningful ways to keep us from being our worst selves all the livelong day, and not because of my skill as a mother. 

Nine reasons why kids are the best

I know many stay-at-home moms, myself included, who will acknowledge how blessed we are to be able to stay at home with our children, but in the next breath can talk (at length) about how frustrating and maddening is our job. That's kind of the nature of things, isn't it? We're not here to be buddies with the kids and have fun all day long. We're here to train them to be good people, and that means that sometimes there will be friction.

There's a fine balance between sharing enough with other mothers to encourage camaraderie or raise awareness and just venting in a negative way about your family. I'm still trying to find the right balance, but lest anyone ever doubt it, I love my kids- sometimes so much I can't even describe it. And while some days are bananas, there are a lot of reasons why being around kids all day is really awesome. Here are nine reasons that kids are the best:

1. Unconditional love- This is easily the best and most overwhelmingly beautiful reason why being around kids is so awesome.When I mess up (which is on the daily- maybe more like every few minutes), I miraculously don't have to worry that my kids are going to love me any less or even hold a grudge. It wouldn't even occur to them. If I am becoming a loud and grouchy mama bear, they still tell me I'm their best and favoritist mommy. When I am eaten up with guilt over having lost it again and apologize to them, they forgive me completely and freely, with smiles and hugs. They don't think to compare me to other mothers the way I do myself because in their minds I'm the only mommy for them and of course I'm perfect. It is so precious to have such soft and open little hearts to take care of!
2. No judgment- You don't feel like changing out of yoga pants, doing your makeup, eating healthy like a grown-up, or leaving the house? No problem! Kids could run around naked eating chicken nuggets all day (in fact, that may be child Nirvana), so they seriously don't care if you do the same. 
3. Complete acceptance- I realize this is kind of a double-edged sword. There are bad people, bad behaviors, and bad ideas in the world, and kids need to be taught about them. However, I love watching the complete open acceptance of people. Kids are just open. My dad is Pacific Islander, so he looks different from the rest of our pretty white family. Even if I pointed that fact out, I doubt my kids would notice it. They adore him. We go to an International Moms and Babies group and the kids just don't see any difference in each other, even if they're from vastly different cultures. Are you a different race/ethnicity? Don't speak English? Are you handicapped? Rich? Poor? Who cares? Don't pull my hair, and we'll share animal crackers. I love watching that.
4. Playtime!- If you want to surround yourself with people who love blowing bubbles, painting, running around, or playing in sprinklers, stay home with your kids. They are always up for fun.
5. Human Growth and Development 102- This part is a personal favorite because it's something that I find fascinating. I love watching the way people's brains work. It is amazing to watch three people at three different stages of cognitive development who are constantly learning.  It's like having your own observational study right in your own home. (Nerd alert.)
6. Creating your own family culture- It started with inside jokes and shared beliefs between me and my husband. Now, as a family we share our own special language, memories, nicknames, preferences, goals, values, you name it. And I get to hold a special place in shaping our culture. Dads may traditionally be the head of the family, but mothers are the heart. I find my husband and kids becoming interested in the things I value, and I've become interested in the things they like. It's like creating your own club.
7. Seeing yourself and your loved-ones- This is beautiful and bittersweet. I see my husband in my kids, which is wonderful, because I love him dearly. Liam looks and sounds like my Pacific Islander dad and his side of the family, and acts like my brothers. Diana reminds me often of my little sister, and causes me to dwell a lot on how I treated her growing up. Matthew looks like my mom's side of the family, which makes me wish they were closer so I could share that with them. In my kids faces, sometimes I catch glimpses of my paternal grandmother, who I miss even now. She would have adored getting to meet them. She would have appreciated the fact that Diana loves eating seaweed. I see reflections of myself in them, which can be good and bad. Children are like little mirrors for whatever bad attitudes or habits you might have, which is humbling. Mostly, though, I see in my kids the combination of generations of remarkable people. 
8. Company- Life with kids is never lonely, and not just because they won't even let you out of their sight to go to the bathroom. You're always surrounded by little people who love and need you. And in times that would otherwise be very lonely, that's a great feeling.
9. Physical affection- I remember visiting my mom when I was in college, and she asked for a hug. I thought it was odd, but she pointed out that she never got hugs anymore. She was single and my siblings and I were all either in college or high school, and none of us ever thought to give my mom or each other hugs. In fact, if you're an adult who's not in a relationship, you probably don't experience a lot of physical affection. When you're surrounded by kids, you're smothered in physical affection all day long. Hugs, kisses, climbing, wrestling, snuggling, sitting on your lap, trying to suck/chew on your face/elbow/hands (that'd be the baby), playing with your hair... sometimes it's overwhelming, but I know I'm going to miss all these joyous physical expressions of affection.

After writing all these down, I just want to go give my kids big hugs. Being a mother really is incredibly special. Can you think of any more reasons kids are awesome?

Ideas from my pre-parent days

I know someone who frequently makes comments about other people's ill-behaved kids. They've made it very clear they have no tolerance and complete disdain for children who act up. (They don't have children.)

Why do they tell me this? I think they share the confidence because they imagine that my kids are "good," so I must also have a natural disdain for "bad" children. I think that just illustrates how little they know us. My kids are good kids, but as a mother, there have been times a'plenty when I've seen that even good kids have bad moments (or days, or weeks, or months). Being a parent changes your perspective on a lot of things. Before having kids, my ideas about children ranged from naive (that I'd have free time) to downright delusional. (In one of my pre-baby fantasies, I sat rocking my peacefully sleeping baby wearing a white gown. WHITE.) For example, before I had kids, I thought:

1. Bad behavior = bad kids, and bad kids = bad parents. Kids are just tiny human beings still learning to keep a grip on sanity and reason for most of the day, and the smallest (and weirdest) things can set them up for failure. Even good kids will scream at the top of their lungs, throw things, and turn and run away from their moms at least once, if only because they're still learning how their world works and they want to see if they can get away with it. However, bad behavior can be influenced by too little (or too much) sleep, sleep at the wrong times of day, their diaper situation, air temperature, hunger, thirst, visiting relatives, siblings' behavior, wind direction, the presence (or absence) of their favorite toy/sweater/snack, their blood sugar, stress, uncertainty, boredom, personality, the phases of the moon, current world events, and just being a kid. Just because you see a toddler throwing a tantrum in a store once doesn't mean they've ever done it before or that they're bad kids. They may just be having a bad moment. And more importantly, it doesn't mean their parents are bad parents. I do believe that there are bad parents and bad children, but that doesn't mean that they can't ever change.
2. Our moms' stories didn't apply to me. I grew up hearing all my mom's stories about my siblings' ear infections, tantrums, sleep-walking, and food aversions. I listened to my mother-in-law talk about her kids' dealings with allergies, eczema, bad dreams, rounded feet, etc. without absorbing any of the information. Where exactly did I imagine my kids were getting their genes from? When we started dealing with allergies, eczema, bad dreams, and sleep-walking, I went back to our moms and asked them to re-tell their stories, and this time I really listened.
3. That I'd have free time. I worked throughout my first pregnancy. I planned to scale back my hours after having my baby, but keep working. In fact, I remember telling my boss, "I should still be able to get that writing done, at least for a few hours a week. I'll just be sitting at home with a baby and nothing to do." 
   
   
   
4. That the hardest thing I'd do is be a mother. Being a mom is a big job. You are the universe to one (or three!) small people. They want you to know what to do all the time. Your personality, preferences, beliefs, and actions shape the culture of an entire family. And if all you had to do was be a mother, it would still be a huge job, but if you're married, you still have to be a wife as well. ("WHAT?? You mean my husband is still going to want to spend time with me and talk about things other than the kids? He's still going to want some of my last shreds of energy to have a meaningful conversation and wonder why I don't make him lunch or put away his laundry like I used to when we were newlyweds? Who does he think he is? One of the kids??") My parents' marriage was never great that I can remember, and they ended up getting divorced around the time I got married. They come from failed marriages on both sides. If there's one thing that runs in my family, it is not doing well at marriage. The fatal blows to those and so many marriages are struck in that vulnerable time after having babies- when two people are trying to learn how to be parents and maybe end up letting go of being spouses at the same time. I had hormones that prepared my mind and body to be completely fixated on my babies. It took a huge effort to intentionally carve out some time and energy and space in my brain for my husband. But I know that (aside from being something I truly love) being his wife at the same time as being my kids' mom is one of the greatest investments I can make in my family.
5. That there was a right way to do things. Please don't hate me. Please understand. We all start out without a clue. Before I had babies, I believed a low-intervention pregnancy, a natural home birth, and breastfeeding a child were the best and therefore the right way to bring children into the world. I have learned so, so much since then. I know people who wanted to have home births but couldn't, who wanted to have a hospital birth but had their babies in cars, moms who had unplanned C-sections, moms who had scheduled C-sections, moms who had epidurals, moms who went natural. I know moms who breastfed for years, who never wanted to breastfeed, who introduced solid foods early, who just couldn't breastfeed, who exclusively pumped and bottle fed. And do you know what? All their kids are fine. Babies are born all kinds of ways. They are cared for all kinds of ways. And they almost always turn out fine. 
6. That I'd be able to turn it off. I imagined that I'd be able to effortlessly switch between "mom" and "me" whenever I had free time (see number 3). But there is no longer any difference. Of course I'm still the person I was before I had kids, but I am also for the rest of my life a mother. Even when my kids are asleep, even when I'm on a date, even when we spend a night away, even when my kids grow up and leave, I will always be thinking about them, thinking about kids, thinking about myself as a mom, thinking about mothering in general, thinking about mothers and babies and families around the world. I am changed forever. I am always a mom. It's not a bad thing. But it's not a part of myself that I can be separate from like I expected. I will never be able to completely be like my pre-baby self. Heck, I'll probably never be able to take a shower again without wondering if a baby/child is crying in the next room. (AmIright, moms?)
7. That I'd be an expert. If you run often enough you become a pretty good runner. If you throw a ball often enough you become an expert at pitching. If you have enough babies, the only thing you become an expert in is knowing where to look for help. Every pregnancy and every baby is different. I keep thinking that one of these times I'm going to be able to use the knowledge I gained taking care of one child with the next child, but it hasn't happened yet. They each have their own quirks and needs. The more kids I have, the more I get this itchy uncomfortable feeling that the beginning of wisdom is realizing how much you don't know. I'm pretty much an expert at changing diapers, but that's it. And only the disposable kind, because cloth diapers still baffle me.
8. That my body would be the same. After assisting in the creation and care of a new human being for TEN MONTHS (multiplied by the number of kids you've had), your body forgets how to be a body anymore. There are bits and pieces where you didn't leave them before getting pregnant. (Even your bellybutton changes! Forever!) Your hips are different and where you carry your weight. You'll feel a new anxiety at the thought of sneezing, which will be amplified greatly if you already have to go to the bathroom. Your hormones are all. Out. Of. Whack. If you're lucky, your body might snap back to some semblance of its former self, but only if you've had only one baby. Or if you're a fitness instructor or Victoria's Secret model. I imagined that since I'd always been thin and small, my body would just naturally revert to that after having a baby with no effort. Not so.

I know there must be more, but it's late and I only have free time to write at the expense of cleaning up and putting away laundry. What are some ideas you had about kids before becoming a parent?

Comedy Hour: Well-Child Checkup

Welcome to comedy hour here at No Ordinary Family! In this segment I will relate to you a hilarious story about the time I took three young children to the doctor's office solo. If you're a parent of three or more kids, this will sound mighty familiar to you. If you're not a mom, make sure you're sitting down. If you're pregnant (especially with your second or third child), definitely be sitting down (take is easy, girlfriend!) and don't worry, you'll learn to appreciate this kind of humor.

Last week was my son's two year well-child checkup. I hate the doctor, but I love my kids, so I take them to be tortured to make sure they're healthy. Unfortunately, I ended up having to take all three kids by myself. What I know of doing anything (especially if it's "an outing") with three kids so far is to lower your expectations about as far as they can go. So in my mind, the visit would have gone well if we,
a) Made it to the doctor's office, and,
b) Saw the doctor, and,
c) All made it home alive.
I used to have ideas about "cleanliness" and "good behavior" and "being on time," but experience and a lack of sleep have taken those from me, along with my dignity and short-term memory. (Although one thing I can remember is my son sitting on my lap last week poking my still-soggy post-baby tummy and saying "beep!" over and over again. I laughed with him and cried on the inside. No dignity. Anyway...)

In the car, I mentally prepped my kids for the general order of events and what the doctor would do, trying to glaze over the fact that my son would be stabbed with a needle multiple times. This has worked well in the past, but this time it caused my daughter to start crying. Was her tender heart sorry for her little brother? No. She was "sad because I'm not getting a shot so I don't get to pick a treat. Waaauuuuhhh!" We hadn't even made it out of the car.

But- would you believe it? We made it to the doctor's office on time! Early, even! I used the old Jedi mind-trick of setting my phone alarm too early. The waiting room was filled with silent adults. My kids headed to the corner with the toys, where there happened to be no other children, and proceeded to be adorable. Strangers smiled in our direction. Score.

I took Matthew out of his car seat and he smiled at me from my lap and all the strangers smiled at our adorable family. But then I smelled a smell. A smelly smell. A smelly smell that smelled... smelly. It was the diaper of my own smiling baby. Taking him to the bathroom would be a gamble, because I had no idea if our name was going to be called in two minutes or twenty. As it happened, at that moment, Diana announced she needed to go potty anyway. So I pried an unwilling Liam away from the germ-infested toys to go to the germ-infested bathroom. (I forgot to mention that our family doctor's office shares a waiting room with the Urgent Care center.) Our MO in public restrooms is for the kids to stand in a corner NOT TOUCHING ANYTHING until we exit the stall. But since I was alone, with two hands occupied with Diana and then changing Matthew, they sensed my weakness and would not stay put, so we were exposed to an unknown number of germs and diseases.

We left the bathroom and the kids bolted over to the germ-infested toys where a little girl was playing with some foam letters and proceeded to jointly rip them from her. I didn't see it, but I heard her protest. They know we don't grab. I don't know why they had taken leave of their senses and had chosen to forget that fact in a waiting room full of silent adults who had nothing better to do than watch the noisy children. So I called them over to me and used my best "You'd better shape up or you're in big trouble" death-whisper. It seemed to work, because they played relatively peacefully for the rest of the HOUR that we spent waiting for the doctor. However, in that time, Matthew began to cry more insistently. I began to get set up to feed him when, of course, the nurse came out and called Liam's name.

Liam is a very outgoing boy, and very happy, and loves people. But as if he could sense our malicious purpose, he suddenly shrank from the nurse. He followed me into the back, but his cooperative good nature was overcome by fear and a murky memory of the horrors he had experienced at the doctor's office before, and he fell to pieces. I had to hold him with me on the scale, which meant the nurses had to get my weight first. (Newsflash: it's not my pre-baby weight.) Matthew was fussing, but I couldn't feed him because for the rest of the exam, I had to hold Liam on my lap or wrestle him bodily on the exam table. At least I wasn't pregnant for that part. He might not have been able to hear Liam's heart well, but the doctor confidently said he had "very healthy lungs." He had to shout his list of standard questions ("Can he stack blocks by himself?" "Does he have a vocabulary of more than 20 words?" Etc.) over the sound of Matthew yelling and Liam sobbing, but I think all the answers were satisfactory. Meanwhile Diana was taking off her shoes and dropping them on the floor under chairs, asking to read the magazines and trying to explore the drawers under the exam table. Still, I kept my cool. What else could I do, really? We were basically a loud three-ring circus. At some point it all just becomes hilarious.

What's that, you say? There's room for more chaos? You're right! As the doctor was finishing the exam and going to fetch the nurse to administer Liam's vaccinations, Diana announced she had to go potty. Again. And of course there was no way Liam was going to wait with Matthew in the exam room while I took her. So off we took our whole flipping circus of four to another germ-infested bathroom. Liam kept dropping his blanket on the floor and then picking it up and putting it in his mouth, but I couldn't do anything about that because I was holding Diana on the potty. Matthew provided the soundtrack for the whole event. As luck would have it, it was a FALSE ALARM, which I love. However, I took the opportunity to put up Diana's hair since it had been falling into her face. This caused her to loudly yell, "Ouch, Mommy! Stop! Stop it! You're hurting me! Stop!" Which is, of course, an awesome thing to have coming from a child with you in a closed bathroom- if you want to be investigated by Child Protective Services. She also remembered my promise that Liam could pick out a treat after he got shots and began wailing because she wasn't going to get shots. Of course. Out we went, back to the exam room, poor ignored Matthew still yelling. Liam was very happy to see the cool Band-Aids the nurses showed him, but when he saw the needles the jig was up. (Happily, when Diana saw the needles, her eyes got big and she stopped whining and declared that she didn't want a shot or subsequent treat.) More twisting, screaming, and wrestling, despite gentle assurances from me trying to remind him of all the good things to come after the shots.

I dislike doctors in general, but I love, love, love nurses. They prove to me every time we go to the doctor's office (which is fairly often now that we have three kids) that there are good people who care about others out there, even in a medical setting. When the deed was done, the very sweet nurses offered Liam his choice of stickers, and he stopped crying right away. Meanwhile, Matthew is still crying, Diana is asking me goodness-knows-what, and I'm just sitting there like,

We packed our circus up and walked out past the waiting room full of silent adults who had certainly heard what sounded like two children being murdered in the back room. Out at the car, I let the kids climb around in their seats while I finally fed my longsuffering Matthew. He sat up and smiled at me, and out of sheer joy and gratitude, spit up probably almost everything I'd fed him all over himself, my shoulder, arm, jeans, and the passenger seat. I cleaned him up, ordered the kids into their car seats, and as I was putting him into his car seat, I noticed that the strange feeling from my shoe meant, yep, I'd stepped in gum. And tracked it into the car.

We got there, we saw the doctor, we all got out alive. It went well.

Fin.

(P.S. I've learned my lesson and am actively looking for people to watch my older two during Matthew's four month checkup this week.)

Three kids: the end of the world?

Mothers know: as soon as you're pregnant, people like to give you advice and tell you their horror stories. It goes something like this:

When you're expecting your first child: "Good luck! Get some sleep now while you still can!" (<The favorite piece of advice from every human being you'll meet, whether they've had kids or not.)

When you're expecting your second child: "Watch out, now you'll really have your hands full!"

When you're expecting your third child: "Everyone says that three is the hardest number. After all, now you guys are outnumbered!"

People are full of encouraging gems like that when you're pregnant. No wonder so many pregnant women are grumpy.

Some of it is well-meant, of course. But there's not a lot of positivity surrounding pregnancy and motherhood. (Pregnant ladies, how often do you hear something like, "Congratulations! What a miracle. You'll so enjoy having [x number of] kids!")

Now that we've started mingling with people in the wide world again, mothers of one and two kids ask me with some awe and trepidation, "So how is it having three?"

It's really not bad. It's not even as bad as I thought, and it's certainly not as bad as people have been telling me.

In fact, having three kids has, so far, been (knock on wood)...

...easy.

(I've been a mom long enough to know that now that I've said that, one kid is going to have attitude problems, another is going to start teething, and the baby is going to go through a growth spurt.)

First, it might help to define what "easy" means when you have three kids. I'm not saying there aren't times when I close myself in the laundry room just so I can cough without someone(s) asking me a thousand questions. I fight multiple battles every day about eating food. Good, healthy food that I lovingly prepared to nourish their growing minds and bodies. There are mornings when I deal with the poop of three small people all in rapid succession, and not always where it's supposed to be. Often at least one person is crying, though more often it's two and sometimes it's a trio of voices raised in delightful harmony.

No, it's easy because I've been doing this for three years and now I'm used to all of that. A little bit of chaos is normal, and it's interspersed with a lot of fun and endearing times. I don't usually get a shower or change out of my PJs before 11 AM, but I do get to see my baby give smiles so big he has to put his whole face and body into expressing the happiness inside him. We can't get out the door on time, but I get to witness my older kids playing cheerfully together at games that they made up.

Truthfully, it was a lot more difficult transitioning to having one child, or even from having one child to two. In the first case, you're caught unprepared (at least we were) by the reality of around-the-clock neediness and your own susceptibility to hormones and uncertainty about how to care for your baby. In the second case, you have a better idea of how to care for an infant, but at that point you have a toddler or preschooler who is used to being the center of attention. Suddenly they need to entertain themselves and they don't always adjust to that easily. They can't understand why mom is suddenly obsessed with a small, uninteresting blob of a person that they can't even touch. To compound things, my toddler still needed help getting into and out of her high chair, having meals made, having her diapers changed, etc.

SO MUCH is different by the time you have three kids! Diana is three now, and at this point she and Liam have been playing together for a long time. I was exhausted in late pregnancy, so they had to learn to run around and entertain themselves. I still need to sit down and feed the baby frequently, so they just dive into their toy box (literally) and make a mess and play doctor. She "reads" him books. They watch TV. (Yep, my ultra-strict attitude about the electronic babysitter changed too after three years.) If they're hungry, I tell her she can get grapes out of the fridge. If the baby throws up the contents of his stomach all over me, I can ask Diana or Liam to get towels or burp rags. They're old enough to play by themselves in the back yard and then let themselves in and take their shoes off when they're done. I can throw their lunches onto the table, sit down and feed the baby, and have them climb up into their chairs and feed themselves. Also, touching on the idea of being outnumbered: is there any family in which there are two caregivers at home all day long? My husband works- I was outnumbered as soon as we had two! And now when we go on family outings, one person grabs the older two and the other grabs the baby. It's not so complicated.

I don't want to ignore my older kids, but it's nice to see their relationship with each other develop and deepen. They're more self-sufficient. I'd like to think they have a greater appreciation for what it takes to be a mom because they see everything I do to take care of Matthew, but I know that's not true. They won't fully appreciate everything their parents did for them until they're pacing the floor for the fifth time one late night, covered in four different bodily fluids. Still, I know this has been good for all of us. The nature of dealing with small children means that an easy period can become very difficult in a matter of months or minutes, but so far, this has been a lot easier than I expected- maybe because so many people (so MANY people) gave me dire warnings about having three kids. I fully allow that it might be different when Matthew is crawling around and needs more than just feeding, changing, and sleep, but until then, this has been a pretty easy transition.

So if you too are thinking of stepping off the edge of the world and having more than two children, take heart! It's not as bad as everyone makes it out to be. It's a miracle. You'll love it (especially after that first month). Especially if you can make your peace with not sleeping and dealing with lots of diapers. I jest. But only a little.

(P.S. I know that last paragraph is irrelevant as there are only two people who read this blog, and at least one of them already has more children than I do. Seriously, I don't even think my mom reads this. I hope instead she's busy catching up on the sleep that she lost for years caring for me and my three siblings. I can appreciate that now.)

One month: We made it!

Matthew and his one month accomplishments!

With each baby I remember my mother-in-law's advice to circle the date on the calendar a month after the baby is born. That way in the dark times during the first month when nothing is right, you can look at the calendar and know that at that point, almost all the problems you're facing will be resolved. It has been great advice.

February 2014 will be known in our memories as the month we all made it through (barely). 

Matthew was born an incredibly healthy baby, praise God! He also naturally put himself on a schedule of being asleep for about four hours and awake for an hour or two. We can work with that kind of schedule. I had to get stitches, which I wasn't happy about, but which I was also pretty much expecting. Our difficulties the first couple of weeks mostly involved my recovery. (Spoiler: getting stitches down there is not fun at all and kind of affects everything you want to do, including sitting up, moving around, and walking.) I seemed to be getting better, and then something happened at about two weeks and suddenly my stitches started pulling and stinging. It was so discouraging, since stitches are easily my least favorite part of recovery. I talked with my midwife about it and she said that because of the way she'd had to tie the stitches, they might not have dissolved and may need to be removed. That elicited one of my two breakdowns during our first month. I just broke down and cried at the thought of anyone having to mess with my stitches at all. It probably had nothing at all to do with post-pregnancy hormones. ;) Thankfully, a friend read that I was having problems and stopped by with a bag to help me feel better. It had cold packs, homeopathic arnica montana tablets, a donut pillow, and an herbal sitz bath mix. I could have cried. It was so amazing! I used those for a couple weeks straight and miraculously one day the pain and stitches disappeared. It was such a blessing! That was something I really really wanted to heal up on its own. I'm so glad no one had to look at it or mess with it. 

Breastfeeding was also, pretty much as I expected, excruciatingly painful. I'd describe it as being stabbed repeatedly in one place over and over again. In addition, I managed to develop cracked nipples on both sides, which just made it, if possible, even more painful. I only screamed once. I only broke down sobbing once because I wanted to feed a crying baby but just couldn't face the pain. Mostly I just bit down on a rag and tried to bear it. When I developed cracks, I decided to give myself a break for about ten hours, so I just pumped and fed Matthew from a bottle during that time. After that, things got better very quickly. By about two weeks, breastfeeding was definitely bearable, and mostly painless.

Then The Cold hit.

Not the weather- no, that comes later. Liam was the first to come down with it: a productive cough even

Sick and tired Liam.

though he didn't seem to have a runny nose, and what he indicated was a headache. He was whiny and clingy and generally miserable. A couple days later, the runny nose appeared along with a high fever of 103. The fever (between 101 and 103 degrees), runny nose, and stomach upset continued for FIVE DAYS. Poor little guy just sat miserably on the couch not moving and barely keeping his eyes open the whole time. He tested negative for influenza, so as far as we could tell, he just got the worst cold ever. Three or four days after Liam got sick, Diana and I came down with the cold. Thankfully for adults it just seemed to involve a sore throat, headache, runny nose and cough. I was happy to get sick because I hoped as an EBF (Exclusively BreastFed) baby, Matthew would avoid it entirely that way. Unfortunately, it was so contagious that at the tender age of two weeks old, Matthew ended up catching it too. He didn't get the fever (thank goodness!), but he did get a runny nose and most unfortunately, a cough. It was so sad to watch a little newborn having painful coughing fits. It caused him to spit up more often than he usually did. Thankfully, he still kept gaining weight. But they definitely seemed to bother him. He snuffled and coughed and choked during the night so much that we got another humidifier for our room and put him to sleep in his swing for a couple of weeks until the drainage was mostly gone.

At the same time, there was an unusually heavy snowstorm and we ended up with over a foot of snow at our house and no way to really get out. Imagine, if you will, two sick, sleep-deprived parents, one still healing from having a baby and struggling with painful breastfeeding, the other beginning to feel the effects of cabin fever; two children with coughs and runny noses alternating being listless and being whiny because they're sick and confined to the house; and an infant with his first icky cold. There were some nice moments of family bonding, but there were also some rough times indeed.

So here we are, all healthy again, all healed again. Matthew is growing like crazy (11 lbs 11 oz at his six week appointment!), really tuning into people, and starting to give out more and more smiles. We're getting into a rhythm of being a family of five. I still take sleep where I can get it and only manage to get one thing from my long to-do list accomplished each day, but we're working on adjusting to this new normal. I've been so blessed to have the most amazing help from Joseph, our families, and our friends. They brought food, gave us space when we needed it, watched kids when we needed, and were around to just talk and help around the house. Joseph and I always talk about how we're open to moving because we love travel and new experiences, but I am incredibly grateful that we've been able to spend our family-growing years with such a wonderful community of people. I think it's that and a lot of praying that got us through the first month. I'm excited to see how life changes and keeps getting better in the months to come!

Matthew giving out baby smiles!

Home Birth FAQ

Mothers love to share birth experiences with each other. Actually, everyone loves to share birth experiences with mothers. I've heard birth stories from husbands and parents and siblings of mothers. As soon as I share that I've had two natural home births, people usually have one of two reactions: the minority are genuinely curious about how I liked it and how it worked. Sometimes they've even been looking into home birth themselves. The majority, though, look at me with horror, like I'm some kind of negligent hippie freak, and after a few condescending questions try to nervously redirect the conversation. Here are some of my most frequently asked questions about home birth:

Q: Home birth? Ugh, I could never do that. I wanted pain meds.
A: If you wanted them, then I'm glad you had them! I wish every woman's birth experience would go the way she wanted, if it was safe for the baby.

Q: Wow. I couldn't have done that. I wanted the option of professional medical care right away if my baby or I needed it. 
A: So did I. That's why I chose a midwife to attend my births who is a Licensed Direct-Entry Midwife (LDM) and a Certified Professional Midwife (CPM) who has attended over 1000 births and has only excellent recommendations from other mothers in the area. Oregon LDMs are trained in and authorized to use oxygen, IV therapy, anti-hemorrhagic medications, local anesthetics for suturing and vitamin K and ophthalmic antibiotics for newborns. Oregon LDMs can order lab work, obstetric ultrasound and newborn metabolic screening. And she has the experience to know when it's time to take a woman and her baby to the hospital, where she is a wonderful patient advocate for both mom and baby. If I hadn't wanted experienced professional medical care, I would have just had my babies at home with my husband. (That actually never would have worked. He was an EMT and had possibly a negative amount of interest in delivering babies himself.) Or I would have built a mud birthing hut in our back yard. (And, realistically, everything still would have been fine, though a lot less comfortable.)

Q: Home birth wasn't an option for me. I had medical problems/ My baby had medical problems/ I have a family history... it's a good thing I was in the hospital.
A: Then I am glad you were in the hospital too. I have known people with "family histories" who had successful home births, and I've known women who were otherwise healthy and wanted a home birth and ended up needing to go to the hospital. If you wanted or needed to be in a hospital, I'm glad you and your baby were there.

Q: ...It's a good thing we were in the hospital: the cord was wrapped around my baby's neck!
A: I know, right? Mine too. What with not having any room and moving all those little limbs out of a relatively tiny space, umbilical cords get tangled all up in babies' business all the time. Diana was born with the cord around her neck- Lisa just unwound it. She's seen babies born with the cord wrapped multiple times around necks, shoulders, etc. It just has to be untangled. It's usually not as big a deal as the movies would have you think it is.

Q: So what about all the required tests/examinations/vaccinations you/your baby gets at the hospital? Does your midwife perform those? 
A: Yes, she performs the newborn screening "heel prick test" that is required in Oregon to check newborns for a host of potentially worrisome conditions. She can do vitamin K injections and newborn eye drops. I think you have to take your baby to a pediatrician to do most of the other vaccinations a hospital would perform right after birth. She tells you about what vaccinations and procedures newborns would normally have performed on them in hospitals, and you can opt out of some of them, I just can't remember what they are right now.

As you can see, most of the questions I get aren't questions at all. In fact, mostly people get very defensive when they hear I've had home births. Look, babies are born every day naturally, by C-section, by VBAC, in hospitals, in taxis on the way to the hospital, breech, with epidurals, in a yurt, etc. I'm not trying to convert people to a home birth mentality. Sometimes when I'm in groups of other mothers, if someone shows an interest in home birth, the other mothers will actually rally to try to dissuade them from it, saying they can have natural-birth options in a hospital or birth center setting. Of course that's completely true, but honestly it feels like I am spreading a dangerous idea that other women need to be protected from. Seriously. The prevailing unspoken response I get from most people is that I am a selfish idiot having children via witch doctor in a mud hut. Are they worried I am trying to trump their birth experiences by saying I've gone all-natural and not even in a hospital?

Personally, I think we're completely indoctrinated throughout our lives with the idea that women and babies need professional medical intervention during pregnancy and the birth process. There is an overall feeling of fear about the whole thing. (Not that it's completely unwarranted- the United States does, after all, even with it's advanced medical system, account for more than half of all first-day deaths of newborns in the industrialized world. That's about 11,300 babies. In addition, American mothers have the same maternal death rate as mothers in Iran, according to the most recent State of the World's Mothers Report.) New moms and dads are consumed with worry about birth, as if babies and women's bodies weren't made for it. When we interviewed the midwife who has delivered two of my babies, many of my nieces and nephews, and even some Joseph's siblings, she described herself as a lifeguard, which is exactly what she acted like during my births and was exactly what we wanted. I liked that every step of the way during pregnancy and labor, she only ever made me feel confident that if I kept myself healthy physically and mentally, I would have no problem having a baby.

Here are some questions nobody ever asks me:

Q: Why did you choose home birth?
A: I chose home birth because I believe women's bodies were designed to handle childbirth. I am a private person and I hate doctors, examinations, and hospitals, but of course none of that would have mattered if I had thought that a hospital birth would be best for my babies. I don't like the idea so prevalent in the American medical system that everything is a dire problem coupled with my experience that doctors never have a solution or really any idea what the problem is exactly. If I didn't have to be a part of that system, I wanted to try a peaceful experience with a few people I trusted because I feel that childbirth is an intensely personal event that I want to own, instead of being in the passenger's seat directed by doctors who are probably more comfortable with medical intervention.

Q: Did you enjoy the experience? Would you do it again?
A: I enjoyed it so much I did it twice and hope to do it a third! I don't have a hospital birth experience to compare it to, but I can say that it worked for me and it was exactly what I hoped for. Someone put on peaceful music, I never felt rushed, I received a few words of encouragement and some helpful suggestions, and I was left to do my own work. My EMT husband was impressed by my midwives' knowledge and medical expertise and my mother (who was amazingly skeptical of home birth during my first birth) was impressed by how beautiful and peaceful the whole process was. (She even told me she wondered why she hadn't done that with her kids!) And can I say again how much I loved my midwives? Lisa was amazingly supportive and knowledgeable. She checked my babies' heart rate throughout labor to make sure they were doing well. I never worried about my kids with her around. Her assistant, Rachel, (who is now a licensed midwife herself) was also sweet and supportive. I had various complications with healing and nursing in the early weeks of having newborns, and I called Lisa day and night to ask her questions or just talk.

Q: How did you evaluate the pros and cons? Weren't you concerned for your baby in case of an emergency?
A: Especially during my first pregnancy, we worried (like most new parents) that there would be some medical emergency and we would lose precious minutes needing to transport to a hospital to get more care than the midwives' could offer. However, when we evaluated the likelihood of a medical emergency, it seemed like we were taking a comparatively small risk having our baby at home. Once we saw how "normal" my births were, we became more confident that we had made the right decision. And in the intervening years we've had the opportunity to hear from friends and family members how Lisa reacted in the event of medical emergencies during birth and I'm pretty certain that we'd be in good hands.

Anyone have any questions? Did you get the birth experience you wanted? If you had a home birth, have you had the same experiences with other people and mothers? Am I really just a selfish hippie freak who consorts with witch doctors and preaches heretical ideas about birth at the risk of my children's health? Comment below!

The ins and outs of eczema

People who are concerned by Diana's eczema will occasionally ask me if we've figured out what causes it yet. Yes, we think we have. After many weeks of frustration, I sat down the other night to diagram what we knew about Diana's eczema. This is what I came up with:

No problem, right? 

• Topical Allergies: Her topical allergies include: cocoa butter, sunflower oil, coconut oil, anything with fragrance, animals (dogs, cats, horses, etc.), carpets and upholstery (possibly due to the soap/chemicals used on them?), and a host of other things we haven't identified yet, including some ingredients in different brands of "free and clear" laundry detergents. Basically, any time we leave the house or see friends and relatives, Diana needs a bath/shower/to be wiped down with a warm, wet washcloth that has been washed in Arm & Hammer free and clear detergent. 
• Dry Skin: The moisturizers we use to help her dry skin can't have anything in them that she might be allergic to. So far, that leaves Aveeno Eczema Therapy Cream (when her skin isn't too scratched up) and Vaseline.
• Yeast: Even if her skin is generally doing well, sometimes yeast may colonize her skin which makes her itchy. We need to give her bleach baths occasionally just to keep her skin clear. Unfortunately, chlorinated water dries out skin. 
• Sugar: One mini marshmallow or even one M&M doesn't seem to do much, but give her an entire cookie and Diana's hands instantly go to her face to scratch. Somehow she reacts to too much sugar. 

I forgot to add that it's important that her skin can breathe, so she has to wear all-cotton everything all the time. 

Also, we have no idea where her food allergies figure into making her itchy. When we tried an elimination diet, nothing seemed to really make her skin much better. We're pretty sure that the allergies that affect her skin are mostly topical, not food-related.

The factors that contribute to scratching are, if possible, even harder to address because some of them are just a consequence of being an almost-three-year-old. Skin irritation is probably the easiest thing to control. We have to make sure her clothing isn't at all scratchy or too tight (unfortunately, the tights we use to keep her from getting at her ankles and knees are tighter than nice, loose pants). But how do you keep a child from being bored?? I think it's healthy for kids to be bored sometimes. It allows them the freedom to develop some creativity and use their imagination. And while I take care of a house and, soon, two other kids, I can't be Diana's full-time entertainer. However, when she's bored, she'll often default to scratching, which makes her itchy. Another big factor is stress, which also seems impossible to control. The world is a new, uncertain place for toddlers, and when she's uncomfortable with a situation, Diana will often scratch. The world can also be a frustrating place when you figure out there are things you can't do. Trying to mold a smart, frustrated, itchy toddler into a good and happy person results in a lot of angst for both parties, and a Diana who is unhappy about being sent to her room or told she can't do something will invariably scratch. In fact, more commonly, I can't allow her to go to her room or out of my sight at all because she will pull her gloves or tights off and scratch at the slightest opportunity.

Emotional Eczema

While I was doing some recent research about eczema, I came across two interesting articles. The first was entitled "Psychosocial adjustment in preschool children with atopic eczema," written in 1993 by three researchers at the University of Machester and published in the Archives of Disease in Childhood. According to the abstract, "The psychiatric adjustment and mother-child attachment in 30 preschool children with severe atopic eczema was compared with 20 matched controls. Patients with eczema had a significant increase in behavior symptoms, with significant excess of dependency/clinginess, fearfulness, and sleep difficulty, but there was no difference in the security of attachments." (I don't know if Diana is overly clingy or fearful, but sleep is definitely an issue. She wakes up usually between 3-8 times each night, and I don't know how much of it is because she's uncomfortable and itchy, but it definitely messes with her sleep cycle at a time when she needs to be getting lots of sleep.) " In relation to the mothers of the children with eczema, the abstract stated, "Significantly fewer... felt supported socially." That's been one of the biggest emotional challenges for me: I feel so very lost and alone. I know I have Joseph to talk to, but Diana's eczema is like no one else's eczema. Sometimes I just wish I could talk to another mother who understood the physical and emotional challenges and the confusion and the frustration and the hope and the anguish. Talking to other people sometimes helps put struggles in perspective, and I don't know of any other moms who are dealing with anything remotely like this. Diana sticks her hands down her pants to scratch or sometimes even removes her clothes and people laugh and tell me my daughter is walking around half naked, but they never seem to notice that I am never laughing too. The consequences of Diana scratching can be setting her skin back for days, and it results in enough unhappiness for everyone in our family that it's really no laughing matter. One night, we didn't use athletic tape to hold Diana's PJs together because she had a cold and we didn't want to restrict her breathing at all. I found her in the morning with her pajamas removed and also all the skin from the backs of her hands. Regardless of how comical people find the situation, I will never laugh when Diana scratches, since this is the result:

The abstract continues, "Significantly more [mothers] felt particularly stressed in relation to their parenting and less efficient in their disciplining of the affected child. Child behavior problems and maternal distress were significantly more common in the more severely affected children." Yes! There's no way to know how much of your child's bad attitude is just being a toddler and how much is actual excusable distress due to their discomfort. I know during allergy season I'm a bear because I can't think or focus on anything else when all the soft tissues in my head are itchy. If life was like that for me every day, I'd be grumpy all the time too! Lately, every day for Diana has been a bad day, and almost every minute of those days is filled with unhappiness. I don't want Diana to be faced with sadness and frustration all the time.

The second article was "Stress in mothers of young children with eczema," published in the Archives of Disease in Childhood in 2007 and written by three authors with The Children's Hospital at Westmead in Sydney, Australia. They evaluated the parental stress levels of mothers of children younger than 6 years old (the average age was 2.8 years) who were receiving care at the hospital for management of eczema. If you have the stomach for scientific papers at all, I'd suggest you read it, because almost everything that they found seems true for me. "Mothers of children aged 5 years or less with eczema exhibited significantly higher total stress scores as compared to mothers of normal children and children with other chronic disorders such as insulin-dependent diabetes and profound deafness. Stress scores in the parental domain did not differ significantly from the scores of parents of children with severe disabilities such as those requiring home enteral feeding and those with Rett syndrome." That seems like a pretty profound result. I don't want to use this to enable my own pity party, but taking care of a child with eczema is incredibly stressful. Just maintaining her skin quality is hard. It seems like everywhere, everyone, and everything negatively affects Diana's skin and we're only safe when we're at home. When we take steps to fix her skin or try new coping methods, it's way more stressful. I know I've said it before, but there's nothing as hard as seeing your child in complete misery just ruining themselves physically. Diana is both the victim of eczema and her own worst enemy. I wish there was some way for me to describe the sadness, the pity, the frustration, the confusion, the hopelessness, the guilt and the alone-ness that has driven me to tears on a daily basis for the last few weeks! Stress in mothers of young children with eczema? Yeah, it's bad. I guess I'm happy that anyone cares enough to write a paper about it at all. 

/Venting

Here's what I know: Diana's eczema is essentially dry, sensitive skin that is affected by a host of things, some of which we don't understand and some of which are mental or developmental or closely related to her personality. There is no one cure for her eczema. We cannot fix Diana's eczema.

The only thing we can do is try to maintain the best skin quality we know how. Occasionally we have to adapt our coping methods to new information, incorporating new suggestions from her doctor, and the fact that her eczema changes as she gets older. It's widely acknowledged that sometimes eczema flares up for seemingly no reason, and I think we're in the midst of a crisis like that now. We're slowly figuring out ways to bring it under control and see our happy, carefree Diana more often. But ultimately, we're anticipating years of almost-constant care for a child with special skin needs. I think a lot of my stress has been fighting the idea that this is the way life has to be for Diana. I'm just starting to accept that the constant itching/scratching battle and all the care that goes into maintaining her skin might be her status quo for years to come. I don't like the idea.

I also know that God is in control. God cares for me and our family and our little girl. If we keep turning this horrible experience over to God in prayer, good things will come out of it. If we keep asking for wisdom, it will keep coming. It's difficult for me to remember those facts when a trial isn't one shocking event, but instead a wearying lifestyle. I think God knows that too, though, and he has shown me that's he's with Diana and me even in the tiring and miserable journey through her eczema. 

The Heart of the Eczema

The title of this post is misleading, because eczema has no heart. If it had an embodied form, it would be a soulless monster, preying on anyone, including the young and the helpless.

The past week has been filled with moments that just make me want to curl up on my bed and cry. Today especially was incredibly discouraging. There are few things more emotionally stressful and draining as a parent than seeing your child suffering, and there has been a lot of physical discomfort for Diana this week. I hate hearing her scream during the rare bath/shower times, or when I'm putting on a moisturizer that I know is good for her. I hate hearing her cry and beg me to stop because it hurts.

The Plan

We've declared war on her eczema again. It seemed to get worse in the past month, so Joseph and I did some brainstorming and came up with some plans. Everyone's skin in the house got drier once the temperature dropped and the heater started coming on, so we've been putting on the kids' humidifier every night. Also, we theorized that 60% of Diana's skin problems have to do with the fact that she scratches, leaving lots of scabs that are dry and itchy or open wounds that are always in danger of becoming infected. So we committed to stopping the damage done by scratching with fingernails by covering her hands EVERY time we see her scratch. We've got a couple pairs of lightweight cotton gloves from The Allergy Shop in Australia that we use, or if we're in a pinch, we just pop socks over her hands. Joseph sewed one pair of gloves onto an old pajama shirt Diana had so that we can use it when she sleeps without her pulling the gloves off. We put that on under some of her footie pajamas (because even with gloves on, she'll still peel off pants and diaper and scratch if she has the opportunity) and then put a band of athletic tape around her chest so that she can't retract her arms from her sleeves (something she perfected about a year ago) and scratch inside her PJs at night. Additionally, at our doctor's suggestion, we've been giving her 1/2 tsp Children's Liquid Zyrtec every morning and at night as needed to try to make her less itchy.

The Results

It was a bit of a rough transition to wearing the gloves during sleeping times, but now Diana asks for her "glove shirt" and is comfortable with putting her fingers in the fingers of the gloves herself. That seems to make it easier for her because she knows she mostly still has the use of all her fingers and isn't too limited in what she can do at night. It was (and is) much more frustrating for Diana to get used to being forbidden to scratch during the day. I hate to keep her from doing that, but she does so much damage to her skin and usually leaves herself bleeding. We stress that she can scratch with her gloves on all she wants or she can rub the itchy spot with her gloves off. Usually we have to revert to putting the gloves on. Understandably, it's frustrating for Diana, especially as she healed up and the scabs became dry and itchy. Her frustration has manifested in a lot of un-Diana-like behavior: blatantly tormenting her brother, not listening to mommy, being surly and whiny at every opportunity, and saying things like "I don't like you, mommy," "You're a naughty mommy," and "Go away, mommy, I don't want you here." I know that she doesn't mean it when she says that, but it's still a little disheartening. I've tried redirecting her to say things like "I'm frustrated/mad at you," because that seems more accurate, though I'm still not sure I like that.

Happily, though, as she was thwarted from scratching, her skin did heal up! Kids heal so quickly (when they let the healing happen), and soon her skin was free from scabs and scratches. I could use our Aveeno Eczema Therapy Cream on her without the alcohol hurting her skin! She began to willingly take baths and showers and just sit and enjoy them because the water didn't hurt her skin! Hallelujah! If you'd ever had the misfortune to be around our house at bath time, you'd know this was a huge improvement. Soon all that was left was, essentially, the heart of her eczema: dry skin with raised, irritated red patches.

We overcame the problem of scratched and bleeding skin and now we're left with just the eczema, which is no less confusing. Her dry skin is irritated by something, and we somehow need to combat both the dryness and irritation. We tried an exclusion diet with no noticeable results. We noticed that whenever she has sugar (including white flour), her face flushes red and she immediately begins scratching, so we tried removing sugar as well and haven't noticed any changes in her skin quality or itchiness levels yet, but that can supposedly take up to two weeks to get out of her system. To allow natural oils to accumulate on her skin, we cut out showers and baths and only did wipe-downs on her hands and face with a warm wet rag at the end of the day. Unfortunately, we encounter a lot  of irritants in the course of a day even just seeing friends, relatives and animals, so I'm not sure this did a lot of good either. Additionally, the dog has been in the house more often since the nighttime temperatures dropped to freezing and we also got a new couch, which may be covered in cleaners that irritate her skin. There are no limits to the amount of things that could be irritating Diana's sensitive skin!

And the new plan

A sweet, sweet friend saw some of my posts about Diana's skin and brought over some Arbonne Baby Care products for us to try. I was so touched by how thoughtful she was! Diana's eczema problems are like no one else's that I know, so it feels like a very lonely, frustrating battle sometimes, but it is encouraging to know that people notice and care, including you, lone reader. It makes me nervous to try new products sometimes, but I've never heard of Arbonne products and haven't tried them, so we're giving them a shot. 

Diana's unhappy skin after unsupervised scratching.

Diana's itchiness and attitude problems reached new lows today. Every minute or so she'd scratch uncontrollably, I'd pop the gloves on, she'd throw a fit, eventually calm down and I'd take them off, then she'd go right back to scratching. The cycle went on all day, with frustration misdirected at me and Liam. And do you know that it's actually impossible to reason with a toddler, or explain that their own scratching hurts their skin? At naptime, I checked on her every couple of minutes for almost an hour, taping gloves back on and putting clothes back on when she'd pulled them off. At last, it seemed like she was just falling asleep and it was quiet in the kids' room for about an hour. However, when I finally went in, I found her completely naked and scratching herself with no gloves. She set her skin back so far with this one incident. So we figured this was a good place to reevaluate and start a New New Plan. 

In the New New Plan, the dog lives outside exclusively. Diana's gloves will stay on all day except during meal times. We're going to shower every night, even if we don't use soap all the time. We will be using Arbonne Baby Care Hair and Body Wash occasionally in the showers and moisturizing with Arbonne Baby Care Body Oil and sealing in the moisture with our tried-and-true Vaseline. When her skin is a little less scratched up, we may try the Arbonne Baby Care Body Lotion as well. She still gets Zyrtec in the morning and at night as necessary, we're still keeping sugar as low as possible and substituting whole grains whenever possible. Humidifier and glove-shirt go on every time she sleeps. 

After the day's scratching, tonight's shower was, predictably, horrifying. It was also a huge emotional challenge as a mom to slather Diana with the body oil while she curled into a fetal position on her side and begged me not to put it on because it hurt her. HOWEVER, I did notice that as soon as the oil and Vaseline were on, Diana's scratching stopped. Under normal circumstances, Diana's hands will scratch away at her hot spots, even with gloves on, especially when she's distressed. (This is another complicating factor, because if she's ever startled/ uncomfortable/ tired/ hurt/ frustrated/ nervous/ etc. she will immediately start scratching herself even absent of other skin irritations.) Instead, her hands just stopped and she chatted with me. After getting her dressed, I asked her suspiciously if she was itchy and she said no, so we skipped the Zyrtec tonight. I'm curious to see what her reaction is to the new products after a few days of use. Her skin did feel extra soft after putting on the oil, and hopefully the moisture gives her some relief. 

A mother by any other name

People say when you become a mother you need to also be a nurse, teacher, etc. I never expected I'd need to become:

• A voice actor- What, you thought children would be interested in a hungry caterpillar just because it's brightly colored? This is my dream job anyway, so it's kind of fun.
• A crisis negotiator- Because sooner or later, every child will get themselves (and/or a sibling) stuck without being able to get out.
• A thief- You only need to try taking the beloved blanket/stuffed animal ONCE to commit yourself to a life of crime. Anything to avoid the apocalyptic scene that comes from blatantly putting it in the laundry.
• A psychic/crime scene investigator- You're not always in the room when the offence occurs, but you learn to piece together the evidence and sniff out guilt. It's easier when only one of the suspects is really mobile. Or when the first thing they say as you walk in the room to the crying baby is: "Hi Mommy! I did NOT hit Liam with the toy!"
• A distiller.... of information- In order to explain the water cycle, the solar system, or atomic bonding to a toddler, you need a great deal of education AND excellent communication skills. 
• A student- Of cooking, of scheduling play dates and outings, of nutrition, of skin conditions, of all manner of bodily excretions, of effective discipline and policy-making, of toddler-appropriate art.... Thank goodness for the internet. I look up and study dozens of different subjects each day. I decided to start a family instead of go to grad school right after college, but I assure you I'm still learning just as much. 
• An expert- Diana's eczema has taught me that I'm the expert when it comes to my child. I hate going to doctors, but in all fairness, I usually schedule an appointment when I'm at the end of my rope and want them to tell me the magic answer to our problems, as if they just know everything about eczema. I'm the one who is around these kids 24 hours a day. I'm the expert. I need to start acting like it.
• A pack mule/ Super Woman- I will carry in the sippy cup, the baby in car seat, my purse, the diaper bag, the mail, and the groceries, and I will do it ALL IN ONE TRIP because I'm too lazy to go out to the car a dozen times. 
• Less of an introvert- "Hey, mom-I've-never-met-before at the park! Want to talk about everything and anything having to do with our children because we're the only adults each other will see until our husbands come home at the end of the day? Super!! We're Best Buds!" I don't think this would have happened if I was regularly socializing with people who didn't whine at me so much.
• A wildlife photographer- In the December 2012 issue of National Geographic magazine, Mel White writes that an ornithologist (Edwin Scholes) and biologist (Tim Laman) "logged a total of over 2,000 hours simply sitting in blinds, waiting and watching" to capture stunning images of birds of paradise in New Guinea. I hope those men have children, because such patience is exactly what's required to capture that 30 second video I posted on YouTube. The problem with recording the same subjects is that they grow up so fast. By the time you're able to capture the Latest Cute Thing, it may have already morphed into something else. And, as Amber of Parenting, Illustrated with Crappy Pictures, puts it so well: the presence of a video camera immediately eradicates any talent they were JUST demonstrating.
• An interpreter- "Eddo da!" = "Hello, daddy!"in nine-month-old speak. "Rara!" = "Hungry!" (I don't know why.) And if my toddler starts chirping at you a mile a minute in her voice that's three octaves higher than the average human can hear, it's probably because she's telling you something happy. Heaven help you if she has turned into a kitty. (Kitty voices are an extra octave higher than that.) It's really like being able to decipher the squeaks of dolphins. 

Diana's Eczema

Even itchy girls can be princesses!

Diana's skin is very definitely improving from last week. This is wonderful, but frustrating because we don't know what set her off in the first place or why her skin is mysteriously getting better. I'm still playing with the amount of wheat she can have, so we've probably let her have more wheat this week than she ought to, as I've noticed her nose is becoming stuffy again. Strangely, her skin still feels better and softer (more like healthy, normal skin), though it's still very itchy. It hardly makes sense since I thought wheat made her skin rougher. Again, her skin quality and itchiness seem completely disconnected. I fully expect her eczema to take a turn again before I figure out the reason why, but I'm trying to enjoy this time of better skin quality while it lasts! We'll be trying potty training again this week and I may ease off on wearing her tights under her pants, at least unless she starts scratching her ankles too much. 

Two months

After Liam was born, I spent a week recovering from giving birth, another week recovering from mastitis, another week fighting thrush and horrendous nursing problems, one week being the sole caretaker for the kids because Joseph came down with a nasty cold, another week taking care of a sick Diana and recovering from the cold myself. So if you didn't hear from us for about five or six weeks after Liam was born, that was why! Things have only been really "normal" for a week or two. Here's what's been going on with the kiddos:

Liam looking around and waving his arms.

Liam loves his daddy.

Two month old Liam!

Liam

Liam and "Wondrous Sister" Diana

Liam continues to be an incredibly sweet and reasonable baby who just loves people. He's even started to replace the all-purpose crying with different vocalizations. Instead of crying, he'll do a little yell or two to indicate that he's awake and wants to be fed. He really loves looking at people and smiling and practicing his cooing and talking. He is already laughing. He likes just interacting with me so much that he'll stop nursing just so he can gaze up at me, practice his giant charming smiles and coo and babble at me. He resists when I try to put him back on- he'd rather be talking and smiling at each other instead! Liam is completely in awe of Diana. We call her "Wondrous Sister," because he is just so completely amazed by everything she is and does. He has some of his biggest and most immediate smiles for her when she comes close or notices him. I think she is a big part of the reason he is starting to vocalize earlier than she did.

Diana goes to bed at 8 and his bedtime is at 10, so I basically spend the last two hours before his bedtime nursing him, snuggling with him, giving him a bath, nursing him again, smiling and talking with him, nursing him again... no wonder he doesn't want to go to bed.

Despite Liam's Very Reasonable nature, we've begun sleep training. Liam still likes to spend a lot of time sleeping, but he'll only go to sleep if he swings to sleep or is nursed to sleep. We think it's important for babies to be able to soothe and comfort themselves. So at 10:00, all the lights go out, his fan goes on for white noise, and after making sure all his needs are met (he's completely fed, clean, and burped), we put him down in his bed. If he's yelling (which he usually does, since he doesn't like to be alone), we check on him every 15 minutes to burp and change him if he needs it. Usually this is daddy's job. Mommy means food and snuggles, daddy means business. When daddy gets Liam at night, he knows he'll be taken care of, but that it's not time for more nursing and snuggling. He has to wait for at least two hours (since night time is time for sleeping!) for his midnight feeding. He's welcome to yell for those two hours if he wants. After only a couple of nights, our very smart boy has already reduced his yelling when he's put down for bed. Mostly he complains for about 30 minutes and then falls asleep. Tonight, less than a week after we started sleep training, he started dozing off while nursing around 9:30, rubbed his adorable chubby face a few times after I put him down and fell very soundly asleep. YES.

Adorable Liam taking a break from eating.

Despite all the problems of only nine weeks ago, breastfeeding Liam has become a joy and is completely easy. Joseph has observed that I've moved to the next level: "ninja breastfeeding." I can stealthily nurse Liam in restaurants, in bed. I can walk around while feeding him or get Diana another bowl of applesauce. My mom often asks me, "Aren't you glad you stuck with it?" Yes! I have been through the valley of the shadow of quitting. I often wondered if the breastfeeding wasn't actually more painful than the childbirth itself. I personally believe that breastfeeding is best, but I absolutely wouldn't judge anyone who decided to formula feed their babies, because I was so, so close to deciding to do that too. But I was stubborn enough to stick with it and now it's wonderful (and convenient!). When Liam is very hungry, he snuffles around, gives a little roar, and uses his baby abs to hurl himself face-first at the right spot. When he first latches on, his mouth works wildly and his eyes roll around in his head like a little tyrannosaur, as if he's daring anyone to take away what he's rightfully gotten in his mouth. When the let-down comes, his eyelids flutter and his eyes roll back in his head dreamily. It's so funny and heartwarming to watch. He's such a little character. Very Cespedes-like. ;)

Diana

Diana is growing and learning so much. Excuse my stream of consciousness style, it's the only way I can remember it all: 

Charges various objects to be "careful." (Maybe I say it too much?) "Careful, cup. Careful, shoes. Careful, outside. Careful, man."

Has learned "booger" and "toots." Now enjoys saying "mommy toots" repeatedly, regardless of veracity. I'm so glad I taught her these things.

Very fond of saying "good job!" I was awarded full-tuition scholarships as well as some private scholarships, I completed undergraduate research in bioengineering and oceanography, I wrote and defended a thesis, I worked three jobs in college, I presented research at a major conference, I graduated college, I traveled the world, and the most significant achievement in my life currently is using the potty like a big girl, a feat which amazes my daughter and elicits a "good job, mama!"

Does well with identifying colors and is surprisingly good with recognizing numbers. For example, she can identify when there are two zebras in the book we're reading and can recognize the number 3. If I say "two," she will follow with "three," and if I say "six," she'll say "seven."

Silly girl just had to sleep with her sunglasses.

We've read all her board books dozens of times, so we're starting to move on. She enjoys  P.D. Eastman's books, like "Go, Dog, Go!" We've also started to visit the library regularly. It's like a wonderland to her. She runs around plucking out books at random. I feel like I should be leaving tips for the librarians to repay them for all the reshelving that needs to be done after Diana has made her rounds.

Beginning to add imagination to her play. She will put rocks on a chair and call them "food" and pretend to eat them. She also has a giant stuffed lion that she carries around. When she lays it down, it is taking a "nap" and she will even give it a blanket.

She wants to know names for everything! I can't even begin to estimate the number of times I hear "wha dat?" each day. After I tell her, she very carefully repeats the word, sometimes several times, until she has it almost exactly right. It's pretty adorable. She also wants to learn the names of people, and has a surprisingly good memory for faces and names. This will be useful to her as she has four grandparents, ten aunts, ten uncles, and ten cousins. That's assuming I didn't forget any. She also uses pronouns and possessives "my tummy," "my bag," "I'm here!" "I'm stuck," sometimes with a little bit of a British accent from watching too much Kipper.

Imitates things that we say, especially those that we don't realize we say very often. "Do you mind?" "I got it! (I can do it)" "Excuse me." "No no, Diana! Ohhhh, Diana..." She'll also imitate other people, which is why we have to officially stop watching grown-up shows around her. We like a variety of TV shows: The West Wing, The Office, Community, 30 Rock, and Parks and Recreation. Of all those, Parks and Rec seems to be the "friendliest," in that the characters are generally happy and don't spend most of the time yelling at each other in what might be a very unsettling way for a toddler to watch. So if mommy and daddy want to watch something around Diana that isn't Kipper (her favorite cartoon), we watch Parks and Rec ("Leslie show!"). However, this morning Diana stumbled over a toy and very softly but very definitely said "dammit." What a shock for a parent to hear from her precious little toddler! Especially since she's not exposed to swearing in our house or anywhere else that I can think of. The only thing I can imagine is that it came from TV, so we'll have to stop that while she's around.

She very much enjoys imitating our actions, especially mine. She knows that I put on makeup most days and wants to hold my "mas-cara" and dab it on her eyes. She'll use cylindrical blocks as lip balm, "like mama."

She loves to help. She carefully observes (and usually gets in the way of) everything we do, but the best way I've found to get Diana to stop being a nuisance is to get her involved. She helps me unload the dishwasher by handing me the silverware and some of the smaller plates. I'll fill up Nova's food bowl in the garage and let Diana carry it back inside the house. She helps me prune flowers, make pancakes, sweep, mop, change Liam's diaper, and anything else I'll allow her to do. I can expect a certain amount of mess whenever she helps, but she is just so thrilled whenever she's allowed to help me that it's definitely worth the time it takes to clean up.

Joseph's mom rightly observed that Diana was quite the naturalist. She loves being outside. It makes me feel bad that we don't go outside more often since we don't have a fenced-in yard. Our back yard is currently a giant exhibit of all the native weeds of western Oregon, so she mostly runs around in the front. She likes sunshine and running (and rolling) around in the grass, smelling and picking flowers, watching bees, and picking anything berry-like off plants. Parks are her favorite thing in the world, especially if they have playgrounds. She has, terrifyingly, learned to scale ladders to giant slides, so we need to keep a close eye on her. I can't believe that this is the same girl who was just learning to sit up a year ago!

We've begun potty training. We've begun potty training. I read a blog post by a woman who potty-trained her 18 month old in a week and used that as my inspiration. Admittedly, the toddler had an older brother who set an example for her, but I figured it still might work for us. Basically, she gathered as much potty-training material for her daughter as she could find at her local library, made her daughter familiar with the potty and what it was for, and stayed home for a week allowing her daughter to run around without a diaper. We've had mild success. When coupled with mommy enforcing potty time every 15 minutes or so, Diana can "hold it" long enough to do her business in the potty. (Hooray!) However, if I leave it completely up to her discretion, sometimes disaster results. Keep in mind that this method is already difficult because Diana's eczema is so bad that whenever she has bare legs, she will attack them and savagely scratch them until they bleed. I had to cut the toes off a pair of Joseph's soft dress socks and put them on her legs. Yesterday she came out with me to get the mail, a fashion plate in Joseph's dark dress socks and her too-big orange dress, and she made a slight detour to run around on the grass. She bent here to look at the grass, she squatted there to look at a bee...or so I thought. I told her it was time to come inside, she obediently ran to me and then completely nonchalantly dropped a pookie on our sidewalk, right there in front of me, the good Lord, and the whole world. I was speechless. So was she. I hesistatingly explained to her that she'd made a mess outside instead of in her potty and that pookies belonged in the potty. It didn't appear to really sink in. When I went outside to clean it up, it turned out the dog had helpfully slurped some up, making my day doubly gross. Things I never expected to deal with as a mother...

Overall, we have two fantastic and healthy kids and it is easier every day to be a family of four. I really need to get to bed, but next time I post, I'll include more about recovery, adjusting to motherhood, and our travel plans for the fall!